


persephone

by lusterrdust



Series: like home [1]
Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exes, F/M, Friendship/Love, Love, Post-Break Up, Romance, bughead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-30 15:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10879827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusterrdust/pseuds/lusterrdust
Summary: "She’d been devastated when Jughead suggested they take some time apart, of course she had—but… somewhere in her mind, she’d been so sure in believing this was nothing but a small hurdle for them." [bughead]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd

 

 

> ▱◯♕
> 
> _“If we aren’t capable of hurt,_  
>  _we aren’t capable of joy.”_  
>  _—Madeleine L’Engle_
> 
> ◯

Her name is Sabrina.

The new girl at Riverdale High, walking through the halls of their senior year with an air of confidence Betty only dreams of having one day. With short ashy blonde hair and eyes sharper than even that of her gorgeous best friend Veronica Lodge, Sabrina Spellman has, and _is_ , everything Betty isn’t— mysterious, sultry, and unnaturally ethereal.

The worst part is, Betty can’t hate her.

Sure, she’s dating her ex-boyfriend, but she’s also her lab partner. Betty comes to find Sabrina is actually incredibly nice and infuriatingly easy to talk to. She also notices that enigmatic glint in the other girl’s eyes and thinks, maybe this is what Jughead wanted all along.

Someone who wears her individuality with pride and isn’t afraid of making mistakes.

Maybe Betty’s biggest fault in loving Jughead was loving him too much. He’s the stake wedged in her heart, and though she’s managed to pull him out, the splinters left behind scrape and rub until there’s just aching flesh, raw and tender.

It’s hard to put on her happy façade day in and day out, pretending to be okay with the new addition to their circle of friends. It’s hard to look up at the lunch table and see Jughead and Sabrina share a coke. It’s hard to watch her steal fries off her ex-boyfriend’s plate when she knows it wasn’t so long ago that it was her that position.

Betty forces a thin-lipped smile on her face when Veronica invites Sabrina to their weekend plans of mani-pedis.

“That’s okay, right, B?” Veronica turns to her as the rest of the group listens idly to the conversation.

It’s been two weeks since school’s started. Two weeks of pretending she’s okay with casually hanging out with Jughead and his new girlfriend.

It’s been four months since their break up, and Betty doesn’t know who’s to blame for it in the first place… She’d been eight days late for her period, and it was as if everything she’d worked so hard for up until that moment in her bathroom had been for nothing. A false positive.

The catalyst to their untimely separation, Betty had reluctantly agreed they might have been moving too fast, too soon. She’d been devastated when Jughead suggested they take some time apart, of course she had—but… somewhere in her mind, she’d been so sure in believing this was nothing but a small hurdle for them.

So, when she’d walked into Pop’s a week before school started, Betty had been frozen on her feet at witnessing her beanie clad ex sitting quite closely with a beautiful girl she’d never seen before.

Now things are weird, and emotions she’s tried keeping dormant are clawing at her from the inside out, desperate to be released.

Betty looks up from her food, realizing her long pause might be interpreted as rude, and swallows her food. Lowering her fork, she plasters a regretful smile on her face and fumbles for an excuse. “Oh, I was going to talk to you about that…”

Veronica’s face falls slightly, a small pout to her lips at the direction of Betty’s tone.

“Uh, my mom needs help that day with…” Betty wracks her brain for something, _anything—!_ “…cleaning the stove.”

“What?” She watches Veronica furrow her brows as her cheeks flame up at the horribly executed improv of an excuse. Her eyes risk a glance toward Jughead; he’s looking at her with a small down curve of his lips. Betty snaps her gaze back to her food before looking up to Sabrina apologetically.

“Sorry. You two should still go though.” Betty digs into her messenger bag and pulls out her wallet, digging for the 10% off coupon for the salon she’d printed out for that weekend before handing it to the other blonde. “Use this.”

“Thank you, Betty.” Sabrina says gratefully, reaching over the table to take the coupon before waving it in front of Jughead with an amused brow and flirtatious smile. “See? Didn’t I tell you that acorn in my shoe would bring good luck?”

Betty can’t stomach any more.

Kevin glances to her worriedly when she throws the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder in a jerky movement, accidently bumping his elbow. She hopes nobody notices the trembling of her hands when she grabs her tray and stands up, giving some excuse she can’t really hear through the ringing in her ears before she takes off across the field and back into the school.

Her tray cast to the side, Betty sprints to the Blue & Gold for refuge.

It’s all so cliché, she thinks with wry amusement.

The heartbroken girl cowering in a normally secluded part of the school, crying over some guy and his new sweetheart like a pathetic trope in an overused teen storyline.

Well, she knows now its popularity carries validity because watching the person you love—the person who is supposed to love you back—happy with someone else… It’s absolutely _gut-wrenching._

Is she nuts? Remaining friends with a man whose last words spoken to her in intimacy were that of a lie? _“Of course I love you, Betty! I just think we’re moving too fast.”_ Or had she simply clung onto hope because of them? Had she been filled with a naïve hope that she and Jughead would jump right back into where they’d left off?

Enter new girl.

A vixen who’s cast her spell over Jughead and snagged him from right under Betty’s nose. Except, she hadn’t, because Betty knows Jughead is his own person, and so is she. She has no claim over him, and vice versa. With an tremulous sigh of frustration, Betty drops her head into her hands and wishes things weren’t so damned complicated.

When the door opens to the room, Betty assumes it’s Veronica and groans through the curves of her fingers. “I’m not in the mood to talk right now, V.”

She’s met with silence and finally looks up to see Jughead standing at the threshold, hands tucked in his pocket and head downcast in a tilt she knows conveys his discomfort.

Betty sits up a bit more rigidly but refuses to cower at his presence. This is her office, after all.

She forces that same tight lipped smile at him and laces her fingers over the desk in a polite manner before addressing him in a voice she knows will have her cursing into her diary for later entries. “Jughead… did you need something?”

Jughead remains silent and Betty’s fake smile falters as the speed of her heart increases and stutters with uncertainty.

“Betts…”

The nickname he’d dubbed for her in the fifth grade suddenly sounds vile to her ears. Who exactly did he think he was, walking in here and giving her _that_ look while he has a girlfriend? A look like he cares about her still, even though he’s the one who’d gone and replaced her without so much as a proper warning. They haven’t properly talked in months… not since her parent’s divorce.

And it’s weird. Awkward, even.

“Do you have a paper related question?” Betty inquires with an edgier tone, squaring her shoulders back and clenching her palms tightly under the desk so he won’t catch onto the harmful tick she hasn’t quite yet stopped from acting out on impulse. “Office hours are usually—“

“Yeah, I’m aware of the hours, Betty.” He quips in a tone she can’t decipher. He takes another step in, eyes scanning the room before they fall to her and her hidden arms under the table. Betty pulls them out and grips the edges of her sleeves instead. “I used to write here, too.”

“Of course.” Betty nods, feeling another wave of awkward tension befall them as she refrains from scoffing. “Until you needed your space.”

“Betty…”

“Sorry, that was uncalled for.” She apologizes, feeling guilty for her scathing tone. She knows Jughead hasn’t intended to hurt her. It’s not the type of person he is. But having him here, so close to her, it _hurts_.

“…It’s fine. I—“

“Look, Juggie— _Jughead_ ,” she quickly corrects, licking her lips and feeling a flurry of emotional turbulence in her stomach when his blue eyes follow the movement with an indecipherable expression. “I just—I’m getting used to it. I just want you to be happy, Jughead… I’ve always wanted that.”

Jughead stares at her long and hard, and Betty can see the reluctance to speak the words hanging on his tongue. When he does speak however, there’s a sarcastic but defeated jilt to his tone. “I don’t think happiness is in the cards for me.”

Betty feels only mildly miffed at his dejected response and she gives a slow nod, letting her eyes fall over random objects in the room, and really anything to distract her from the heady gaze on her. She wants to tell him the reason he isn’t happy is because he’s too terrified to allow himself to be, but she doesn’t.

“My dad’s getting out.” Jughead changes the subject abruptly, forcing Betty’s eyes to snap back to his as her lips curve down in a concerned grimace. “Sheriff Keller says he’s earned a bit of good conduct time. He’ll uh, he’ll be able to come back home. Make it to graduation, and everything.”

Despite her confusing mix of bitterness and affection for the boy in front of her, Betty is genuinely pleased to hear this.

FP Jones had proven to everyone but the law that he was only a devoted father willing to sacrifice his life for his only son. He’d made shady deals and broken a few laws, but so had half the residents of their _quaint_ little town.  

“That’s great news, Jug.” She says sincerely, voice soft and genuine as they stand there in the middle of the Blue & Gold, separated by more than just tables and chairs. “I hope everything works out.”

Betty finds she doesn’t need to force the words out of her mouth. Maybe she’d seem pathetic to the average person who wasn’t currently going through the devastation of heartache, but she doesn’t care. She can lie to herself all she wants, but the truth of the matter is, she’s still in love with Jughead. But he’s moved on, and now she need to do the same.

She just needs time.

Like an epiphany, a strike of clarity, Betty thinks of Polly’s offer to her and her father. Living in Cleveland with her mother and her two babies, they’d wanted her to move there with them, to finish her last year of high school with them, as a family. Of course, Betty had refused, opting to stay in Riverdale with her father because her whole life was here, but now…

While Betty loves her friends here, she’s third wheel at best to Veronica and Archie, and Kevin hardly has time for her anymore thanks to the part time job consuming all his free time.

And Jughead… well, he has Sabrina now. Betty’s just another tag along to a couple that’s half her heart.

She misses her mother and sister deeply.

Cleveland suddenly isn’t looking so bad the more she thinks of it.

The bell goes off, causing both teens to jump at the sound. Tucking a loose wisp of hair behind her ear, Betty pats her hips lightly with the fists still clenched into her cuffs.

“I should… I should probably get to class.” She gives the lame excuse, knowing Jughead will see through it but not finding the strength in her to care.

He looks like he wants to say something, but in a split second he merely nods and turns around to grab the handle to the door, pulling it open and walking out.

When his footsteps fade away, Betty allows herself to hunch forward, pressing her palms flat against the table as she forces herself not to cry.

_You’re better than this! He isn’t worth your tears!_

It’s not very long afterward, but Betty manages to even out her breathing before standing back up in an upright position. She has Physics now, with Sabrina.

A glimpse of red catches her gaze from the table, and Betty feels an immediate flood of shame in realizing her palms are bleeding. Not bothering for a paper towel or tissue, she smudges the blood away with the cuff of her sleeve until it’s nothing but a stain on a shirt.

And isn’t that just the metaphor of her self destructive ways?

Betty keeps herself from the dark; she lets it fester inside her like a black hole she knows will one day consume every aspect of herself. Now she’s eating the words she’d spoken in advice to Jughead.

_“You just need to let yourself feel, Jug. It’s not good to keep it all in.”_

_No_ , she thinks. It’s time for her to spit out the words eaten on her tongue and allow herself to feel now. She _needs_ to feel.

With a quick text to her mother, Betty pulls her bag up and walks out the door to get to class.

_Mom, can I call you after school? It’s about Cleveland._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, don't kill me, but i had to extend the story to three chapters as my brain just kept adding shit, meaning no fluff this chapter - sorry!!
> 
> unbeta'd

 ▱◯♕

 _"There are plenty of ways to die_  
_but only love can kill and keep_  
_you alive to feel it.”_  
_—Leo Christopher_

◯

 

“Betty…”

She has her suitcase open in front of her, her last box stacked by the door of her now bare room. The bed looks lonely in its position against blank walls. The photos of her and her friends all packed away in an album somewhere, ready to be loaded into her dad’s car for their drive down to Cleveland just a couple days away.

Turning her head, Betty sees her father leaning against the doorway, watching as she folds a shirt and tosses it into the case. Part of her feels extremely guilty for leaving him here alone. She thinks of him by himself in this big house and feels something akin to a fist squeezing her heart at the thought.

“I know I’ve already asked you, but—“

“This isn’t about Jughead, dad.” Betty tells him, turning back to her neatly folded clothes before sighing and lowering herself to sit on the bed. She gives a halfhearted shrug and plays with the loose stitch of her sweater. “I mean, part of it is. But, it’s more than that. More than him.”

Hal sighs and walks to sit himself beside her, opening his arm and pulling her close when she falls into his embrace, seeking his comfort.

“I just want to be sure this isn’t something you’re going to regret in a couple weeks.” Hal tells her, stroking her hair as she rests her head on his shoulder. “It’s your senior year; I know how much you care about your friends and I know your Mom’s been badgering you to move with her, but you’re old enough to stand by your own decisions.”

“I need to do this, dad.” Betty explains, wondering if he’ll really understand. “Yeah, mom’s been relentless in trying to get me to move down there but… I miss her too. I miss Polly and the kids. I miss us being together. _All_ of us.”

He dips his head and moves his hand down to rub her arm. “I do too, but your mom—“

“Why can’t you move, too?” she whispers, feeling her eyes burn. “Why do things have to change?”

Hal is silent for a long moment, and Betty doesn’t think he’s going to answer before he’s speaking in a low, hitched voice. “Changes are a natural part of life, sweetheart. It’s how we choose to react to them that define who we are.”

Betty’s listens with quiet sniffles, not at all eager to move from her father’s side.

“I love your mother very much.” He breathes out, attempting to keep a brave face but failing. “But she wanted different things, and who am I to stop her?”

“You could’ve though.” Betty argues, feeling her throat tighten with emotion as she pulls back and blinks at him through her haze of tears. “You can fight for her.”

“Not every relationship works like that, Elizabeth.” Her father tells her gently. “Everyone’s different. Some people leave to see if they’ll be chased… other people—people like your mom, they leave because they need to.”

“But you love her.” Betty licks her lips, trying to keep her emotions in check. “She loves _you_ —“

“Yes.” He agrees somewhat solemnly. “Yes, we love each other but relationships don’t survive on that alone. Relationships are hard work. They’re about compromises and understanding, and sacrifices.”

Her chest constricts painfully as she realizes her father’s not only baring his truths about their family, but he’s speaking to her directly.

“I love him.” Betty whispers, feeling her tears slip down her cheeks as her father cups her face and wipes them away. His attempts to keep them at bay are fruitless, as the lock she’s kept tightly sealed on her heavily guarded emotions burst free; and suddenly, she’s a sobbing mess. “I love him, dad.”

Hal pulls Betty to him and lets her cry it all out.

When she falls asleep after the exertion of her pent up emotions, he moves her body carefully and tucks her in. He hopes Betty is like Alice.

He hopes she doesn’t wait to be chased.

Kissing her forehead, he moves to the end of the bed and continues where she left off on folding her clothes, piling them in not-as-neat piles into her suitcase before setting it against the wall with the other boxes.

… … …

It’s her last day at Riverdale High and Betty feels like she’s going to throw up. Her nerves are absolutely wrecked, she skips breakfast and listens absently to Archie talk about his after graduation plans on their walk to school.

“—tty? Betty.”

“Hm?” Betty looks up, feeling a flush rise in her cheeks when Archie gives her a look of concern. He places a hand on her shoulder and furrows his brows. “Hey, you okay? You kind of spaced out.”

Forcing a laugh out, Betty gives a smile and shakes her head. “What? No, yeah, I’m fine.”

Except she’s not fine.

All morning Betty takes in minute details of the school and stores them to memory. She wants to remember the halls with fondness, not associate it with bitterness. At her locker, she discreetly risks a glance to the side and sees Jughead and Sabrina walking down the hallway, the tall beauty speaking animatedly about something while Jughead keeps his gaze down, looking disinterested to the average viewer. But to Betty, she sees the slight tilt of his head and tiny nod of his chin, showing he’s listening.

Betty slams her locker shut and clutches her books to her chest.

Just one day.

She can get through this one day, because she’s stronger than her temporary hurt. So, Betty tightens her ponytail and works her ass off through her first three classes; she gives a Junior girl named Alicia the rundown of how to manage the Blue & Gold during her free fourth, but by the time lunch approaches, the twists and coils in her stomach return with a vengeance. And when Kevin asks her if she wants to go to the theatre over the weekend, Betty decides it’s time to inform her friends what’s going on.

“I’m not going to be able to.” She says, turning to her friend with a sad grimace.

“Maybe next weekend? I heard—“

“Kev.” She interrupts. At her tone, his brows pinch together in concern. Turning to Archie, Veronica, Jughead and Sabrina, Betty takes a deep breath and exhales shakily before squaring her shoulders. “Guys, I um, have an announcement.”

Their attention falls to her.

“Today’s my last day here… at Riverdale. _In_ Riverdale.”

It’s silent for a heartbeat.

“What?”

“Betty, what are you talking about?”

“B, what’s going on?”

Everyone speaks at once until Betty intervenes with an attempt at a reassuring explanation. “I’m leaving tomorrow, to Cleveland. My dad and I are taking off in the morning.”

There are multiple reactions to her news: Kevin’s speechless, Veronica’s bombarding her with concerned questions, Archie’s flat out in denial, but Jughead… he’s staring at her with an expression so intense, Betty has to look away, lest she lose her nerve to finish her explanation.

“Betty, wh—how can you leave me here? Us?” Veronica grabs her hand with widened eyes, “When did you find out? Is your dad making you leave? You can always stay with me, you know.”

“I appreciate the offer, Veronica,” Betty says sincerely, gripping her hand tightly in an affectionate squeeze. “But, I actually made the decision myself.”

“ _Why_?” Kevin asks, appalled.

“I love you guys,” she answers, feeling just the briefest flicker of grief at just how real that rings true for the boy across from her. “But I miss my mom. I miss Polly and JJ and Annie.”

“But what about graduation? School?” Archie demands, brows furrowed with a deep frown on his face.

“Everything’s been transferred to Cleveland already. Mayfield High, I think it’s called.” Betty answers, pushing her meal around with her fork. “I start there Monday.”

“When did you have your files transferred?” Jughead finally speaks up, his mouth set in a tight line.

Betty licks her lips and reminds herself she has no reason to feel guilty at the betrayed look in his eye. “Last week.”

The rest of her friends grill her for not saying anything sooner. Veronica and Kevin make the decision that they’re all skipping the rest of their classes to hang out and spend the rest of their Friday together. No doubt to try and coax her out of her decision.

Jughead pushes himself up from his seat, knocking Sabrina’s water bottle over by accident at the rough movement before he stalks off. 

His abrupt departure causes a tense and uncomfortable silence to fall over them before Betty’s clenching her fists and following his path.

Jogging up, she reaches him at the bleachers. “Jughead, stop!”

He swivels around with a pained but angry look on his face. “So you’re doing this? You’re really leaving?”

“I am.” She holds her ground, fully intent on being honest.

Jughead brings a hand up and runs it over his mouth jerkily, nostrils flaring. “Is this—“ his voice cracks as he stares down at her, trying again while gesturing a hand between their chests. “Is this because of us?”

Despite herself, Betty scoffs out an incredulous laugh. “ _Us_? What us? There’s me and there’s you… and Sabrina.”

He looks wounded at her words, but Betty refuses to feel bad for a decision he’s made on his own.

“I thought you and I…”

“What?” she breathes out in a choked whisper, “You and I, _what_? You thought I owed you what, a warning or something?”

“Considering all we’ve been through, I figured you would’ve cared—“

“ _Cared_!? You want to talk about caring enough?” she finally snaps, feeling the tears brimming her lashes fall loose. “How about the fact you didn’t care enough to give _me_ a warning!”

“Wh—“

“How long did it take you after breaking up with me to get with someone else?” She hisses, feeling her nerves shake and rattle with aching distress. Her hands push against his shoulders in a rough movement, forcing him to stumble back only slightly. “How long did it take for you to realize you didn’t want a life with me after we thought I was pregnant?”

“Don’t go there, Betty.” He growls out.

“I’ll go wherever I damn well please!” she moves to push him again but his hands catch her fists and holds them steady, only infuriating her further. “You said you loved me! Y-you said you loved me, and you left! _You_ left!”

His face pinches with pain and she can see the moisture gathering in his eyes. She wants to not let his hurt affect her, but it does.

“What did I do?” she breaks down, voice cracking as her body slumps, her lip quivering as his own nose turns red and the trail of his tears leave liquid stains on his cheeks.

“Nothing.” He breathes out coarsely. “Betty, I—I can’t—“

“I can’t be here, Jug, I can’t.” she shakes her head, her blonde flyaways falling at the movement in disarray. “I can’t keep pretending everything’s alright. You and me, this town, my _family_ —“

He pulls her close to him, but she can’t be touched by him. She just can’t.

Recoiling from his embrace, face contorted in an attempt to gain some semblance of control, Betty notices Sabrina standing just a short distance away, looking apprehensive to approach. Jughead follows her gaze and clenches his jaw, staring down at the ground with a torn expression.

“You think you’re all alone in the world, Jughead.” She shakes her head, voice losing some of its edge. “But you’re not. You never were.” Licking her lips at his silence, Betty swallows the sandpaper feeling in her throat and takes a step back. “I hope you realize that one day, Jug. I really do.”

When she turns and walks away, part of her hopes he chases her.

He doesn’t, and the larger part of her is relieved.

Veronica meets her halfway across the field and throws her arms around her, eyes misty and embrace tight. She pulls her away from the school and Betty spends the rest of the day savoring the moments made with her friends, all the while wishing her heart wasn’t so heavy with the things both said and unsaid between her and Jughead.

… … …

“You sure you got everything?”

From her position at the trunk of the car, Betty pushes her last case inside it and shuts it closed before turning to her father. “Yeah. Everything’s here, dad.”

It’s six in the morning, and the first glimpse of sun’s rays filter through the treelines in a luminescent glow as the blades of grass beside her are covered with fresh morning dew. The street is silent with the resident’s taking advantage of the weekend’s promise of extra sleep, but Betty’s wide awake.

The decision she’s making is a hard but necessary one. There are too many shadows in this town—too many shadows in her _home_ , reminding her of just how empty and cold it feels… like her.

Like a reflex, Betty’s eyes flicker up to Archie’s house.

He won’t be there, having slept over at Veronica’s place during their late night movie fest.

“Here, start the car.” Hal tosses the keys at her, Betty barely managing to catch them before he walks toward the house. “I left my wallet inside.”

Betty slides into the passenger’s seat and reaches over to start the engine before gasping loudly when a hard knock to her window has her jump in fright. Her heart leaps into her throat when she sees Jughead standing there and her brows pull together in bewilderment as her heart accelerates into overdrive.

He looks terrible.

Eyes sunk with dark rings beneath, he looks like he hasn’t slept a wink.

“Jug,” she slips out of the car, “what—“

“Don’t go.” He pleads weakly at her, forcing a sharp inhale from her. His hands seek hers out and he steps forward. “Betty, don’t go.”

“Jughead—“

“I don’t deserve you.” He cuts her off, looking frantic and eager to recite some speech he’s prepared in advance. “When you took that pregnancy test, I was scared. I was terrified.”

Betty’s annoyed at her tears. She’s cried so many at this point, it’s a wonder how there’s any still left. She doesn’t interrupt; instead Betty listens to hear what he has to say.

His eyes are bright blue, glossed over and heightening their color to clear waters, but it’s the absolute desperation expressed through them that prove his fervent sincerity.

“Everything I touch turns to shit, Betty. I didn’t—I don’t want that for you.” He expresses. “I ran away. I’m good at that. I was ashamed, I still am, and I know I don’t deserve you, even now, but I can’t—I can’t lose you. Betty, I can’t.”

“Jug…” Betty hiccups, clenching her eyes shut as she processes his confession.

She’s torn. She’s pissed.

Why does everyone feel the right to make her decisions for her?

“Jughead,” she places her hand on the collar of his jean jacket, letting her fingernails dig into the fleece. “You once told me the road to hell is paved with good intentions…” His face falls at her words, and she forces the next words out of her mouth, knowing they need to voiced. “However noble your intentions, it doesn’t change what happened afterward.”

“Betts…”

“You told me you loved me and you just… _pushed_ me away.” She tells him, feeling his hands move to grip her elbows. “You started _dating_ someone else.”

“I didn’t mean for that...”

Betty shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters, Jughead. You doubted my love for you,” he opens his mouth, but she continues, “You did, don’t deny it. I love you, I do—but you hurt me, Jughead. You _broke_ my heart—”

“I never meant to hurt you. God, Betty, you have to believe I never meant to hurt you.” He begs her emotionally, desperate for her to know he really hadn’t. He’s shaking, and she pulls him close, feeling the threat of a sob at the back of her throat when his arms wrap around her like he wants to thread himself into her. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t say things like ‘it’s okay’. It’s not. It’s far from okay.

Instead, Betty strokes the hair at the nape of his neck and buries her nose into it, inhaling with a desperate prayer that she won’t forget the mixture of his scent mingled with sandalwood and ash. 

“I meant what I said yesterday.” Betty whispers after a few heavy moments, pulling away slightly. “Me moving, it’s more than just us. It’s…everything; this town, the divorce… I can’t stay here, Jughead.”

His face crumples as he stares at her, eyes flickering over her features, trying to memorize each mark and freckle. “…I’m going to miss you.”

She appreciates his instant understanding, but that does nothing for the other heavier emotions pushing on her stomach. “I’ll still come visit. Maybe… maybe by then things won’t be so weird. If you and Sabrina—“

“I love _you_ , Betty.” Jughead promptly cuts her off, eyes piercing as his hands squeeze her arms gently. “You.”  

Betty responds with a gentle placed kiss at the corner of his mouth. Truthfully, his confession has stirred so many conflicting emotions, but she thinks of what her father had said the other night.

_“Yes. Yes, we love each other but relationships don’t survive on that alone. Relationships are hard work. They’re about compromises and understanding, and sacrifices.”_

“This isn’t goodbye.” She tells him emotionally, moving to grasp his hands and cradle them in her grip. “Okay? This isn’t our goodbye.”

Hal comes out of the house and stops at the porch, giving a hard stare to Jughead but respectfully pausing to let them finish.

“You know I mean it, right?” Jughead squeezes her hands. “That the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”

Betty blinks back the tears in her eyes and nods, taking in a tremulous breath. “I do.”

“Goodbyes look so much easier in movies.” He whispers, trying to pass it off as a wry joke, but missing terribly when another tear dips across his cheek.

Betty chuckles, but it comes out in a breathless sort of whimper. “It’s not our goodbye, remember?”

He gives a curt nod, swallowing thickly. “Yeah.”

“Here,” she guides his hand to her chin and ignores the confused look in his eye before continuing in a pained whisper. “You’ll tap my chin and quote Rick Blaine. I’ll get in my car, and—and when I’m gone from view, we’ll both be okay, because we’ll know this is all for the best.”

Jughead gives a wavering laugh as his eyes move over her face, letting his thumb brush the plump of her bottom lip.

Lightly bumping her chin with his knuckles, he says softly, “Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.”

Betty steps away as her father gets inside the car. When she slips in the vehicle beside him, her eyes linger on Jughead as he takes a step back to stuff his hands in his pockets.

“You ready, honey?” Hal asks her, reaching over to give her knee a squeeze.

Betty keeps her gaze on Jughead and wipes away the moisture off her cheeks. “Yeah.”

When they take off down the road, Betty stares until Jughead’s a speck on her review mirror.  

And on the steps of the empty white house with the red door, Jughead Jones stands alone, and watches as her car fades from view.

It’s for the best, they know.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd - explicit nsfw - you're warned

 

 

 

 

 

 

> ▱◯♕
> 
> _"Waiting is a sign of true love_  
>  _and patience. Anyone can say_  
>  _I love you, but not everyone_  
>  _can wait and prove it’s true.”_
> 
> ◯

 

Time is a funny thing.

For the first couple weeks, Betty cries herself to sleep every night as she settles into Cleveland. The new school she’s at has sterile walls and unfamiliar faces; she sits alone.

She facetimes Kevin and Veronica throughout the week, she texts Archie and debates texting Jughead.

He’s like a scab that she’s sure will never heal if she keeps picking at it. But Betty, being Betty, she needs to know he’s okay. To her heart’s _(relief? dismay?_ ), Jughead contacts her first. He sends her a picture of a shaggy sheepdog, bringing a smile to her lips at the way the animal sits there with his  signature beanie atop its head as if it’s been plopped there for the picture.

_“Got a new roommate.”_

_“I don’t think gray is his color.”_ Betty messages back, biting her lip as she sits on the purple duvet of her sister’s bed.

Another picture is sent in response, the beanie now traded for a bright red baseball cap. _“You’re right. Red suits him much better.”_

Betty picks at the scab and doesn’t care that there will be a scar left in its place. Jughead Jones is already seared into her heart. A childhood friend, her first love, she doesn’t think she could forget him if she tried. What’s another scar?

But, as life often does, it changes.

There are so many of them that Betty can barely keep up.

She meets new people and makes new friends, she gets a part time job at a local supermarket, and stays in Cleveland during the holidays, cancelling her trip to Riverdale as her father opts to come over to them instead, (much to her mother’s disdain) so she can work.

The messages between her and her friends in Riverdale dwindle down to bi-weekly texts.

Betty meets someone at the grocery store a week before her graduation, but it doesn’t last more than a month.

She graduates with honors and throws her cap in the air with her new friends; she takes pictures and begins to slowly think less and less of the heartache that had influenced part of her decision to move here.

Polly gets a job down in Midville where Cheryl Blossom has taken residence in, and after a long discussion, Betty and Alice agree they’re going with her.

Family, it’s everything to them now. After all that’s happened the last few years of their lives, they’re working especially harder to not take their blessing of having each other for granted. Alice can’t bear to be apart from JJ or Annie, and Betty has her whole life laid before her in a blank canvas, a wide brush in her hand to paint the picture she wants.

When Betty turns twenty-three, she gets her degree in Journalism but somehow finds herself working as a mechanic instead. There are more than a few arguments in their home at her decision to continue the route she’s on, but Betty is finally happy.

At twenty-four, she’s on a lunch date with Polly, Cheryl and the kids when they decide to go to the library. Cheryl gasps like she’s just remembered something before she drags Betty to the new releases section, standing on her tip toes to pluck a book from the top shelf before dropping it into Betty’s hands.

_Sweetwater River_

_JP Jones_

Betty feels her heart jolt inside her chest as she caresses the binding in wonder, flipping to the back page to search for the author’s _about me_ section in an attempt to quell some curiosity about what Jughead’s been up to.

There’s nothing there.

But when her eyes fall to the author’s dedications, Betty licks her lips at seeing no names listed, but a quote underneath a line of bold text reading;

****

**_For Persephone_ **

_“Tell me that you weren’t hungry that day._

_Tell me that’s not what got you to stay._

_Seven seeds don’t seem like quite enough_

_Reason to leave a mother’s deep love._

_I want to believe you had the choice;_

_I was hearing more than my own voice;_

_That you opened the palms of your hands_

_To offer your heart, not meet my demands._

_Convince me that you want to be here;_

_It’s not my trick that keeps you so near._

_You chose me. You love me. This is real._

_No silly seven seeds sealed the deal._

_Miss your mother when the door must shut;_

_Love and hurt when you must leave her, but—_

_Come back wearing our hearts on your sleeve;_

_Yearn to stay here, and I will believe._

_No need to say; I know why you go._

_I won’t block your way, make a big show._

_Just tell me you weren’t hungry that day._

_Just tell me I’m the reason you stay.”_

_—Lee Ann Schaffer_

Betty can feel Cheryl’s gaze on her as she breathes in a shaky inhale.

“He sent me a rough copy before publishing it.” Cheryl explains, turning her head to grab another book off the shelf. “Let’s buy one.”

Betty buys two. One for unblemished reading, and one for writing notes inside of, leaving her red and blue ink marks all over the pages.

At the workshop, she reads it during her breaks and can’t help but find herself re-reading that dedication quote more than once a day. By the end of the week, she has it memorized.

Two months later, when she’s waist deep underneath the bones an old red jalopy, the rumbling of a motorcycle at the front of the garage draws forth a bit of irritation from her, as she’s the only one on the floor today, due to one of her mechanics calling in.

“I’ll be right with you!” she shouts, slightly muffled due to the socket wrench in between her lips. She works a few more minutes on installing an exhaust pipe and kicks the old one to the side, pushing the other tools beside her out of the way as she rolls out from underneath the car.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Betty pulls her gloves off and stands up. “Okay, sorry about that. I’m a little short sta…” the words trail off her tongue when her gaze falls to the man leaning against the bike at the front of the open garage.

Blue eyes connecting with her own, the air between them statics and sparks, and Betty’s nearly knocked on her ass with the turbulent emotions hitting her at seeing Jughead Jones only ten feet away.

“Hi.”

His voice is like a vague lullaby you remember with bittersweet longing.

“Jughead.” Betty breathes out.

Few moments pass before a smile breaks out on her face, the shock of his unexpected appearance melting into something closer to wonderment. She walks over to him as he pushes off his bike and closes the distance between them, pulling her in for a hug.

Knowing she’s covered in grease and sweat, Betty pulls away abruptly with wide eyes and holds him at arm’s length. “Oh! Your clothes—! I’m sorry.” 

Jughead grins, eyes alight with a tender glint she hasn’t seen in so long. “It’s just oil, Betty.”

“What are you doing here?” Betty blinks up at him, still processing the fact he’s actually _here_. “How did you know where to find me? Are you—you’re not here to have your bike fixed, are you?”

“Eh, no. No, the bike’s fine.” Jughead chuckles, running a hand through his hair that she notices is no longer covered by a beanie before he’s rubbing at the back of his neck. “And well…I come down here every December.” He explains, “I visit Cheryl.”

Definitely not what she’d expected him to say, Betty’s eyes widen in surprise. “Cheryl?”

 “Yeah.” He nods, pausing briefly before continuing. “Who’d’ve thunk the Ice Queen had a heart all along, huh?”

Betty raises at a brow at the words used before he promptly clarifies, “She reached out to me when… Well, you know that novel I was working on back in High School? About Jason Blossom?”

Turning away, Betty walks to the bench against the wall and rummages through her bag before pulling the hardcover book out. Jughead’s eyes widen before they snap up to hers, lips parted slightly.

“You bought my book?” he asks quietly, unmoving.

Betty smiles at him incredulously. “Are you kidding? Of course I did.”

He walks over to her slowly as she flips to a random page. The loose bun atop her head flops messily as she turns to him, showing him her copy.

Jughead regards the neat scribble of notes with a small amused curve of his lips. “What’s this?”

Betty blushes lightly at the look in his eye and teasing tone of his voice.

“Oh,” she chuckles sheepishly, clutching the bindings of the book as she closes it. “Nothing, I just—I just wrote down some details that could’ve been added in or elaborated on. Not that I think it’s bad on it’s own!” she says with wide eyes, only to blink in surprise when he bursts out laughing. An unsure giggle slips past her lips as she regards him, pushing against his shoulder when he tries to reign his amusement in. “What? Why are you laughing?”

“You… Even unaware, you still manage to put your mark on my work.” Jughead laughs before she’s chuckling along with him. “Oh man,” he wipes at the corner of his eye, the blue of them glistening with mirth and what she notices with a tightening stomach—affection.

Only five minutes into seeing this stranger from her past, and Betty feels like no time has gone by at all.

She’s sixteen again, under the same tender gaze she recognizes from those years ago. However, with abrupt force, reality over _why_ he’s a stranger in the first place hits her unapologetically.

“Would you—Do you want to get dinner or something?” Jughead asks her with only the tiniest hitch of nerves present in his voice, though his face gives nothing away. “To catch up?”

This is a trap, Betty thinks as she stares at him.

That curl draped over his eye, the dark brown leather of his jacket—his _motorcycle_ for goddsake! There’s some type of universal anarchy against her and the six years she’s spent being moved on from him, she thinks.

However, staring hard enough, Betty notices the lack of shadows in his eyes. She can see the easy stance he carries himself in, no sagging shoulders where the weight of the world he tried to once carry, rested on. There’s no grimace and no red-rimmed lash lines. He looks…good. Different.

This Jughead Jones in front of her is someone she doesn’t know—at least, not like before

And Betty’s different herself. No longer in fear of the darkness in her or the pressures of life, Betty’s a freer individual, and damn the negative memories attempting to keep her from catching up with an old friend.

Decision made, Betty puts the book back in her bag and slings it over her shoulder before nodding. “Okay. Yeah, let’s get dinner.”

She grabs the keys to the place and shuts everything off before Jughead’s raising a brow in curiosity at her. He cradles a helmet under his arm and fidgets slightly. “You’re not going to get reamed by your boss for leaving now, are you?”

“Considering I’m her, no.” Betty shrugs, closing the garage before locking it shut. When she turns around to face him, her stomach flips at the impressed look he gives. “I bought this place six months ago.”

“You pick the name out, too?” he asks, that teasing lilt in his voice again, his eyes moving up to read the overhead sign.

“I did.” She raises a brow at him, daring him to tease her over it. He doesn’t say anything, but she still defends her shop. “The Wicked Wrench is cute, and fun to say.”

Jughead laughs. “I won’t argue there.”

She grabs her bag and shuffles on her feet, suddenly feeling a little bit nervous now that the thought of a dinner out with her ex sets in. “So…”

Jughead turns around and pulls another helmet up, lifting it in offering to her. “Up for a ride?”

Betty glances to her car and debates for a split second at refusing his offer; however, when her mouth opens, all she says is, “Okay.”

Ash and sandalwood.

Betty’s overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions the scent of him brings her as she wraps her arms around his torso and flies down the streets of her city. They end up going to a Chinese buffet, and Betty laughs at how much food Jughead can manage to pile onto his plate before he goes for seconds and then thirds.

They talk about everything.

Well, everything but their shared past.

That’s not a topic they broach. At least, not until they’ve made it back to her garage, where Jughead’s taken her to get her car. Betty shuffles through her bag for her car keys but grimaces when realizing she must’ve left them on her work desk.

Jughead follows her and leans against the doorway to her office as she tries to rummage through the piles of papers and random bolts and tools on her desk.

“Are you happy?” he asks suddenly, and the cold of the December night gets the slightest bit chillier at his question.

Betty looks up from her hunched position over the desk and furrows her brows at him, eyes narrowing in almost disbelief at his forwardness. “What?”

“Are you happy?” Jughead repeats with no hesitance or regret in his tone for being so…prying?

Betty straightens up slowly and folds her arms over her chest. “I am.” she answers honestly, feeling her skin break out in goosebumps when his eyes hang heavy on her. “Jughead—“

“I regret it, you know.” He interrupts her, forcing the air from her lungs.

Oh, she blinks. Okay. So… they were doing this. They were digging up the past.

Right now, after a nice dinner.

“Wh—“

“Everything I ever did that hurt you, Betty.” Jughead continues seriously, taking a step closer as she takes a timid step back. “I regret saying certain things to you; pushing you away. I was an idiot.”

“Jug—“

“And then I let fear control my actions. I hurt you. And when I saw you breakdown over that pregnancy test, I saw myself as a dad— _my_ dad—and I lost it.” He continues, words spilling out of his lips like free-flowing wine. Frozen at his strangely timed confessional, Betty can do nothing but listen. “None of that even compares to how shitty I was afterward.”

Betty’s tongue feels heavy, and she wants to reply, but she can’t. So she listens some more.

“I was scared of how much I depended on you to feel happy, Betts.” Jughead tells her, a deep grimace on his face. “You were the only one who never gave up on me, and I just cut you out of my life before you could. I thought being with someone different—someone _not_ you—I could prove to myself I didn’t need you, but… all that did was hurt you both.”

“Were you two…?” Betty clears her throat. “Did you and Sabrina…?”

Jughead’s brow twitches as he takes her question in and shakes his head. “I broke up with her the night before you left. I—Don’t you remember what I said to you that day?”

Betty licks her lips, feeling them dry at his spontaneous confessional. “You told me not to go.. You said you loved me.”

Jughead takes another step forward and the cold draft that had been there only moments earlier, is now filled with heat.

“I’m glad you didn’t stay, Betty.” He says seriously. But before she can be hurt or try and decipher what he means by that, he elaborates. “After you left, I got tangled up with the Serpents.”

She gasps quietly.

“I stopped hanging out with Archie, stopped writing, I got myself into too many situations with some close calls.” His eyes never leave from hers as he speaks, and she’s winded at just how much intensity a single pair can hold. “And right when I was at rock bottom, I heard you—your voice, Betty.”

“What?” Betty blinks at him, feeling her throat close at the rush of emotion in his voice.

“I thought I was going to die, but I heard you. Calling me back.” He whispers lowly, now directly in front of her. “And I followed your voice and woke up in the hospital. I knew then… I knew everything you’d told me while we were together was true. That people _did_ care. Archie and my dad were there, and Fred, too.”

“Juggie,” her heart clenches, just picturing him lying in the hospital and she hadn’t been there.

“It needed to happen.” He shakes his head, not wanting her tears or pity. “You saved me, Betty. I don’t know how, or why for that matter, but you did. And when I heard how well you were doing for yourself—god, I’d never felt more proud of you.”

Betty reaches out to cup in cheeks like it’s the most natural thing in the world and her stomach somersaults when she feels the tremble of his lips.

“You have your life here, and maybe I’m a selfish asshole for what I’m about to say, but… I need to tell you,” Jughead’s breath hitches as his hands come up to grasp her own. “I never stopped loving you, Betty.”

His revelation pushes all the air from her lungs.

She’s stunned.

When he dips his head, Betty can’t help but focus on the ebony curl that bounces at the movement. “Watching you leave Riverdale killed me—more than any overdose would’ve.” He shakes his head. “I wanted to call you and beg you to come back home—back to _me_.”

“I should’ve been there for you.” Betty says softly, stomach churning at the thought of losing him— _really_ losing him. “I could’ve visited,”

“No. God, no.” Jughead shakes his head adamantly. “I’m glad you didn’t see me like that.”

“Jug…”

“It was years ago.” He cuts her off again, his voice picking up a lighter, more wistful tone. “Then I started writing again, and when I dropped my manuscript off to Cheryl, I saw you. In a park with your niece and nephew.”

“What? When?” Betty asks as her lips part in surprise.

“Last year.” Jughead’s eyes flicker over her face.

“Why didn’t you approach me then?” she whispers quietly.

“Because you looked happy.” He shrugs, glancing down. “And it was Christmas Eve. I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Betty can do nothing but stare at him, absorbing his words as her gaze catches his own with a racing heart. “…and now?”

“I had to see you, just for a second.” He admits guiltily, moving his hands down toward her neck. “Then you looked at me and I…got greedy.”

“Because you love me?” she exhales shakily, his fingers pausing only for a split second.

Jughead looks into her eyes, completely bare. “Yes.”  

Betty feels something akin to magnetic draw her to him. She’s not imagining this, it’s happening. Jughead Jones is standing here spewing love proclamations after years apart, for _her_.

She gives herself two and half seconds to make a decision with herself before yanking the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him down until his lips crash against hers in a bruising kiss.

Jughead’s surprised grunt is swallowed in the clash of tongues as Betty seeks more of him. Her desire has been set aflame by the fuel of his words.

“Bet—“

“Shut up.” She cuts him off, pushing the jacket off his shoulders as he obeys with no more hesitation.

Jughead pulls away as Betty catches her breath, her eyes fluttering shut when he leaves open mouth kisses along her cheek, dragging them across her jaw and onto her neck before his teeth nibble her ear. He’s breathing roughly against her, and Betty feels heat pool between her legs at the sound.

When his kisses move down to the curves of her breasts, Betty pushes him away to pull her shirt off, biting her lip as her fingers dip into the waistband of his pants.

“Betty,” Jughead pants roughly, pupils blown at at her coquettish gaze. “Are you sure?”

“Is it true? What you said?” she asks, popping the button loose as her gaze holds his own. “You still love me?”

“Of course it is.” His brows furrow at her. The near offended look at her question sealing the confirmation she needs before her hands push the denim and his boxers down, letting his erection spring free. She grips him and doesn’t play timidity, her hand working him with the memories of what he likes.

Jughead stumbles back, flushed at the abrupt switch on to her sexual prowess, but more than eager to be the clay she wants mold to her liking.

Betty presses herself up against him and moans at the way he yanks her close, leaving his courtesies and niceties at the door.

When her thumb moves to push lightly against the tip of his head, Jughead buckles and lets out a guttural groan before clenching his jaw and pushing her hand away.

Snapped from her sexual daze, Betty looks up at him. “Wh—“

Jughead spins them around and pushes her things off her desk in one wide sweep of his arm, the clang of her tools piercing the air falling upon deaf ears as he lays her flat on the surface, kissing her deeply and pulling at her own jeans.

Betty gives a high-pitched cry of desire when her pants are off and his fingers drag roughly against the damp center of her panties.

“Juggie,” her head slams down against the desk when he yanks the scrap of them down her legs and spreads her open with no reservations.

She lifts her head when tremors shoot down her thighs in anticipation. Her chest heaves when she sees why he’s stopped.

Jughead is staring at her hungrily, his own breathing heavy as his eyes roam her body, catching her gaze and holding it for a brief moment before moving back down to the juncture of her thighs.

Betty thinks she should feel insecure, parts of her are covered in soot and oil from a long work’s day; but she doesn’t feel that way. Not with how Jughead’s staring at her—as if she’s a rare delicacy he’s preparing to devour.

And devour he does.

Betty’s hips buck the moment his tongue licks the seam of her. He’s not gentle or savoring. Jughead is fire embers and matchbox lighters. His fingers dig into her thighs as he hums at the taste of her.

Behind her eyelids, Betty’s body ascends to heights her thoughts try to catch up with. But then Jughead does _that_ thing she remembers telling him so long ago she liked with his teeth and her body starts to tremble and quake, and he’s pushing himself deeper and deeper into her, clenching her thighs against his face when she’s lost in a climbing burn of nirvana.

And when his finger pushes inside and against her with his teeth, Betty keens loudly and pants his name.

“ _Yes_ ,” she moans as her body shudders, being coaxed back down from her orgasm with Jughead’s fingers slowly moving inside her.

“Take your bra off.” He tells her, eyes fiery as he removes his shirt.

Betty doesn’t hesitate. The bra gets tossed somewhere in her office, but she doesn’t give a care about anything other than the way Jughead feels when he lays his chest flat against her flesh. Standing between her thighs, his head reaches her breast and he takes a pebbled nipple in his mouth before moving a hand of slicked fingers up to clutch her neck.

“ _Fuck_ , Jughead—“

“That’s the idea.” He quips breathlessly before she swats his arm, laughing through her own sexual fog. “To fuck you, Betty.”

“Well,” she raises a brow at him, forcing a moan at his words down as she props herself onto her forearms. “Are you going to make me wait all night?”

Jughead’s mouth drops in amused indignation as he pulls away from her flushed peak.

“Foreplay’s overrated.” she grins coyly at him, reaching a hand over to grip his messily pouffed hair.

“I didn’t hear you complaining a few minutes ago.” He counters with a crooked smile, eyes flickering over her lustily.

“You really want to argue the technicalities of— _oh_!”

Betty’s blindsided as he stands straight in a split of a second before dragging her down the desk and slipping into her warm heat. Her fingers try to find something she can grip onto as Jughead slams his hips against her own, pulling out until doing it all over again.

Her breath hitches when he bends down to leave sloppy kisses on her stomach, and she throws her arms behind her, digging her nails into the mahogany ledge of the desk she’s currently sprawled open on like a flower in bloom.

“Yes, yes,” she stares up, eyes unfocused as his hips angle themselves in a way that hits _that_ spot. “J-Jughead—“

“ _Goddamn_ ,” he nips the soft flesh around her belly button before standing straight and throwing his head back, eyes clenched shut. “I love you, Betty. I love you—“

Betty lets his fervid words of devotion lull her into an erotic haze that bring her body to a state of thrumming heat once more. Her center clenches as her legs get repositioned, feeling Jughead’s hands caress them as they rest over his shoulders.

“Keep telling me.” She pleads, arching her back and moving her hips up to match his thrusts.

Jughead obeys, and Betty feels him stutter in his pace before he croaks out he’s close.

“Cum in me.” She demands, feeling her body chase his orgasm when he complies. Her toes curl and her neck cranes, and for that one glorious moment, she touches the stars.  

As it passes, Betty lays boneless as the tremors of her orgasmic aftershocks ripple through her body. When Jughead lowers her legs off his shoulders, his hand moves tenderly up her hips until they settle on her waist. Sliding beneath her back, he lifts her up until she’s in a sitting position and their bodies stick together in a messy entanglement of limbs.

“Oh, boy…” Betty breathes out, eyes lidded as she rests her cheek against the toned planes of his chest.

“Yeah,” Jughead chuckles, still catching his breath before he cradles her chin and pulls her in for a kiss that’s passionate, yes—but also something she can feel on a visceral level.

“I haven't done this.” Betty speaks up after a moment of heavy silence when they pull away, only half teasing. “Go all the way on the first date.”

“Would… do you want that?” Jughead replies with uncertainty, his hope pushed down as he stares at her.

“What?” Betty looks at him through her lashes.

“To date.” He answers lowly, breath held.

Betty lays her hands flat against his chest as his rest on her waist, and she takes second to _really_ ponder the question. Does she?

Jughead has laid himself bare before her, not just his body, but his sins and regrets; and his inner most vulnerability exposes itself the longer she doesn’t answer, the fear of her potential rejection making him grip her waist tighter than she thinks he realizes.

“I want…” Betty licks her lips and runs her hands up until they push his bedraggled hair back from falling in his face. “…to take things slow. I know I initiated something that completely contradicts what I’m telling you now, but—“

“We take things slow then.” Jughead agrees, jumping in at her struggle to have her reasoning make sense. “However long you want.”

“Just, with you over in Riverdale and me, here…I don’t want to rush into something I know can be good if we do it right.” She tells him in a soft voice. “If you’re patient with me—“

“Betty,” Jughead exhales with a wry smile, looking down and shaking his head. “You’ve had me under your thumb since the fourth grade. I’m practically an _expert_ in patience.”

She leans forward and places a feathery kiss over his lips, feeling her body sink with bliss when he reciprocates in equal tenderness. “Thank you.”

“I’m not messing this up this time.” Jughead speaks against her open mouth with an earnest.

“How about this? Baby step number one…” She lets her lips linger on his cheek, biting gently against the angle of his jaw. “If you’re not busy, you should come back down for New Years. Cheryl and I are cooking.”

“I’ll be here.” Jughead promises, nodding his head while playing with the frizzy waves of her hair.

That night, Betty and Jughead fall asleep on the floor of her workroom, pulling a blanket she stores in her car out to wrap themselves up in. The next day, when Jughead slips his jacket back on, walking to his bike with her at his side, he embraces her tightly and whispers promises in her ear before slipping his leg over the seat.

“Here,” he puts a number into her phone and hands it back to her. “My new number, and my agent’s number.”

“Your agent?” Betty questions curiously before he gives her a smile as if to say, _don’t ask._

“If you can’t get a hold of me, call Barry. He’s around pretty much all the time.”

When Jughead rides off shortly thereafter, promising her a call when he returns home, Betty wanders back into her workshop and stands at the doorway, grateful he’d offered to help clean up the mess they’d created the night before. She doesn’t feel like doing work, but she has to.

She reaches for the blanket on the ground and picks it up to put back in her car before _Sweetwater River_ falls to the floor with a thunk at her feet.

Brows pinched in confusion, Betty reaches down to pick the book up before noticing the post it note sticking out as a book marker to the very front page. She plucks the little paper off gingerly before noticing handwriting that’s not her own underneath Jughead’s dedication quote.

 _For when you are gone, you carry spring with you._  
_For when you are gone, I await midmorning’s dew_  
 _For_ _when_ _you_ _are_ _gone_ , _my_ _world_ _is_ _but_ _snow_.  
 _For_ _when_ _you_ _are_ _near_ , _I_ _loathe_ _you_ _to_ _go_.

_I’ll wait for you, my Persephone_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fin.
> 
> so, i obviously had to add rough bughead smut bc come on, we all know why
> 
> also, remember barry? welcome to pre-feels like home


End file.
